


The Space Between the Walls

by thesapphicspockies



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: BAMF Nyota Uhura, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Illustrations, Insecurity, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Past Abuse, Pon Farr, Possessive James T. Kirk, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective James T. Kirk, Soft Spock (Star Trek), Survivor Guilt, T'hy'la, Useless Lesbians, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds, Vulnerable Spock (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-28 18:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesapphicspockies/pseuds/thesapphicspockies
Summary: The Starship Enterprise embarks on a new mission to an undocumented planet, but as they face a multitude of unknown dangers, and Spock fights to escape the demons of his past, will he and Kirk ever come to terms with their feelings?
Relationships: Hikaru Sulu/Lieutenant DeSalle, James T. Kirk/Spock, Janice Rand/Nyota Uhura, Janice Rand/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, this is my first fanfic and I'm really excited!  
> It's likely to be somewhere around 40 chapters, and I'll be updating every two weeks.  
> My amazingly talented best friend will also be illustrating it so a huge thank you to her too!
> 
> Before we get started just some trigger warnings:  
> PTSD and flashbacks (main character)  
> Graphic depictions of violence  
> Past physical abuse  
> Past abusive relationship  
> Toxic relationships (not main pairing)  
> Internalised homophobia (not main pairing)  
> If any of these are likely to upset or trigger you please be careful whilst reading <3
> 
> Okay I think that's it, I hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> Love,  
> thesapphicspockies x

Breathless.

His heart pounded erratically as he clutched at the crisp linen of his sheets, writhing in agony as her maniacal screams rang in his ears. Firm, bony ridges of knuckle met with the soft tissue of his stomach in excruciatingly swift motions, painting a fresco of victory in his blood-soaked bruises. The sharp edges of her perfectly manicured nails dragged against the smooth expanse of skin stretched across his upper arm, tearing at the flesh as his blood began to seep in rivulets  
from the fresh wounds.

Through lowered lids he dared glance upon the demoniac figure that loomed so ominously over his limp body. Her face was contorted in deranged ecstasy as she surveyed her prey with the hunger of an empty gaol. Seemingly pleased with the work of her now-bloodied hand, she caught his gaze... A Mephistophelian smirk crept upon her lips as she began to clench her long, dexterous fingers into a tight, closed fist that he had come to know better than his own, before unclenching them and extending those skeletal digits once more, revelling in the instantaneous flinch she elicited from his quivering frame.

Making no attempt to disguise her horrifically vehement glee, she leapt upon him, cackling wickedly as she pulled at the skin of his chest, digging her nails in until she drew blood. At the sharp, searing pain that throbbed through his veins he cried out in hopeless desperation, "Please! P-please! Sto-" but his pleas were cut short by a firm hand that gripped his throat with fierce determination.

That all too familiar sadistic smile danced upon her lips once more as she leant into his ashen face, the wisps of ethereal blonde hair that had once tickled his cheeks so pleasantly now hung over him, clinging to his neck like a noose as he struggled in vain for breath, for mercy.

As her hollow eyes bore into his own in their pale blue contempt, she whispered, in a voice like death: death on a cold, dark, quiet night, "Cry out. Go ahead. Cry. Cry for _him_. He'll never hear you. He'll never come." Her husky voice was laced with the bitter poison of her evident amusement, as she began to laugh that bone-chilling laugh once more, tightening her grip of his neck, tightening it until he was white in the face, tightening it until he couldn't breathe-

Spock woke with a scream.

His irregular, shallow breaths reverberated in the almost palpable silence. It was quiet. So, so quiet. And he was so afraid.

The soft glow of light from a nearby moon spilled into the inky depths of his quarters, casting clarity over the dark shadows that seemed to taunt his every move. He was alone.

Blinking through tears he hadn't known he'd been holding back, he gathered the soft, linen sheets, pulling them into his chest and clinging to them as though trying to absorb their gentle warmth... He sighed slightly - a shuddering, shaky sigh. "Just a dream," he whispered into the darkness. Forcing his eyes shut, he inhaled deeply as he tried to steady his spasmodic breathing, closing his mind to the torrent of violent, uncontrollable emotions that threatened to break free from its confines at any moment. "Breathe," he whispered through his teeth, "Breathe, just breathe."

As he opened his eyes again he didn't fight the tears that trickled slowly down his waxen cheeks, nor did he attempt to dry the glistening, argent tracks they left behind. The white flag he had waved lay, ripped to shreds, at the feet of a ghost he could never elude; she had won. She had emerged victorious once more. And here he lay, lost and alone: an empty shell resigned to familiarising himself with the multitude of tiny cracks that painted the vast ceiling of this nihility.

It was here he remained until the early hours, huddled within the dangerous safety of his sheets, as he became acutely aware of the distance between the four white walls, and everything that was and wasn't between them.

...

Kirk pressed his ear against the cool metal of Spock's door, his insides twisting painfully as he heard the soft cries of his habitually stoic first officer. The thought of Spock lying there alone after everything he'd been through, between the very same walls that had drained the very life out of him, filled him with such intense abhorrence that he had to dig his nails into his palm lest he strike something and give away his position; that he could never allow. If there were anything in this universe Spock loathed more than being vulnerable, it would be someone else seeing  
him in such a state, and Kirk would never subject him to such shame, despite its gratuitousness; it was a natural instinct ingrained in Vulcans since birth, suffocating and torturous, yet inescapable.

As the whimpers grew more desperate Kirk instinctively placed his palm flat against the door, as though seeking to channel his solicitude through the layers of metal that divided their worlds. He had never felt so separate - so disconnected and detached. A single teardrop rolled down his cheek, brushed away in one swift motion: as though it had never been there. He knew that Spock might never let him in - knew that the walls he built around himself would likely be more successful in keeping him out than the ones that formed his quarters - but he swore he'd try. He had let Spock down once before, but it would never happen again; this time he'd be there.


	2. Chaos is the new Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the beautiful poem by Wyn Cooper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :)
> 
> So I know I said updates every two weeks, but I'm a few chapters ahead and I didn't want to wait, so you'll probably be getting more frequent updates <3
> 
> Ah, impatience is a virtue I guess!

The morning had barely broke, and already the bridge was little more than a fast-paced blur of colours and lights and sounds and movement, enthusiastic chatter floating over the steady whirr of equipment as crewmen dashed to and fro, so organised in their frantic pandemonium.

On any other morn Kirk would have enjoyed the gentle buzz, the comfortingly familiar sounds that felt like chaos and _home_ , but today all he wanted was silence. The soft wails of his first officer continued to haunt his thoughts, traipsing through the depths of his mind and rendering every external experience increasingly irksome - how he longed to push them from his mind altogether! 

Kirk let out a frustrated sigh as he observed his first officer meticulously, searching for any evidence of the previous night's ordeal, a twitch of an eyebrow, a quiver of a lip: little things that any other might overlook yet he had come to know like the back of his hand. Many liked to believe Vulcans were utterly impossible to decipher, but he knew better. 

Spock was an enigma, that much was self-evident, but sometimes all it took was a perfectly illogical, capricious human being to break through those thick walls and learn the ins and outs of so unique a mind. Not that he would ever tell Spock that of course. Though arrogance was supposedly an inherently Terran characteristic, pride was decidedly Vulcan, and of that there could be no doubt Spock possessed in spades - any flattery could inflate that already almost insufferable ego beyond the point of no return! No, he would have to phrase it quite differently, perhaps in the form of a blithe comment referencing Spock's increasing humanity - though of course untrue - it would almost certainly guarantee one of his signature, cynical eyebrow raises, and what better way to raise his spirits than through the sweet temptation of superiority? 

However - in typical Vulcan fashion - if he was experiencing any residual distress, such emotions were not displayed; quite the contrary in fact, for Spock appeared as engrossed as ever in his readings, if not more so, as he sat hunched over his desk as though the statistics were his very life force. 

Rubbing his temple in contemplation, Kirk considered every possible course of action, leaning back against his chair as he turned the situation over and over in his mind. 

The idea of simply drawing a veil over the subject altogether was an appealing one, and, to quote Spock himself, a perfectly logical one, after all Spock seemed in amicable spirits - or as amicable as any Vulcan's could be at any rate - and he really couldn't afford the risk of revealing what he had witnessed: if Spock learnt that he had overheard him whilst in so vulnerable a state...the shame might be too much for him to bear. 

But on the other hand Spock was his best friend, and what he'd gone through...he wouldn't wish that upon his worst enemy. Despite his Vulcan half, Spock was not infallible, even the strongest of substances can be broken under certain circumstances; surely just this once an exception to the shunning of emotion could be made for the sake of his human half? 

Finally, in as nonchalant a manner as he could muster, Kirk asked from between the gaps of his fingers, "Are you well Mr Spock?" 

Spock looked up swiftly from his readings, and with a curt nod stated, "I am in perfect health Captain, thank you." It did not escape Kirk's notice however, that he had failed to meet his gaze, though by now he knew better than to enquire further into the affairs of his intensely private science officer, who would almost certainly note his sudden interest, and seek to discover its 'fons et origo' so to speak.

"Captain, scanners are detecting a planet directly ahead of us!" Sulu exclaimed, snapping Kirk out of his reverie.

"A planet? Are you certain Mr Sulu? This quadrant was documented as unoccupied - how did our scanners fail to detect it earlier?" Kirk asked in alarm, practically leaping from his chair to get a closer look at the screen.

"It's beyond me Captain, one minute there was nothing for miles and the next it appeared out of nowhere - it's driving the scanners crazy!"

"A problem with the scanners perhaps?"

"Impossible Captain, they're all in perfect working condition," Scotty interjected fervently.

"How would you like us to proceed Captain?" Sulu asked, glancing over to where Kirk was standing: lost in thought as he stared at the planet with a mixture of both curiosity and scepticism.

"Mr Spock?" Kirk asked, turning his head in Spock's direction.

"Class M planet Captain, nitrogen and oxygen atmosphere, scanners are detecting several life forms and signs of civilisation far superior to our own." Spock stated, his voice monotonous as ever as he continued to analyse the planet, his brows furrowed in intense curiosity.

Kirk rubbed his chin in contemplation, looking over at the planet again. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, a beautiful orb of swirling purples, ranging from the deepest plums to the palest lilacs, he could almost lose himself in the ocean of purpley hues.

"Lieutenant Uhura, hail them," he ordered firmly - he was going to get to the bottom of this mysterious planet.

"Hailing frequencies open sir," she replied, adjusting her earpiece as she leant over the back of her chair to make eye contact with the Captain.

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise, we have orders from Starfleet Command to establish interplanetary connections with other life forms. Our mission is one of peace, and we mean you no harm."

Then nothing. Silence. Not a sound. Not a word. Time seemed to stand still as the crew waited with bated breath, not even daring to move.

Suddenly, a low, rasping voice breathed out through the transmitter, "We have no need of you or your interplanetary connections," the callous tone sending shivers down their spines as they listened in horrified awe, both repulsed and enthralled. Something about the voice was so enticing, drawing them in like moths to a flame, wrapping them in its velvety huskiness, but there was a coldness, a void where the spirit should have been, that chilled them to their cores.

"We understand of course, but as we said, we come in peace, we simply wish to beam down to your planet, and perhaps get to know some of your people," Kirk stated calmly, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

A pause. Not a soul dared breathe.

The heavy silence was then filled with a deep hissing noise that sent their blood rushing straight to their throbbing ears.

"You are either very brave or very foolish," the voice rasped slowly, enunciating every syllable deliberately. "By all means 'beam down' but remember you have come of your own volition, we are not responsible for your folly."

"What're we going to do Captain?" Sulu asked in barely a whisper, his voice trembling slightly.

"The only thing we can do: go down there and investigate," Kirk replied resolutely, having recovered from his earlier lapse in composure.

"But Captain, you heard what it said yourself! How could you possibly go down there?" Yeoman Janice interposed with a horror-stricken expression, grasping at the back of Uhura's chair to steady herself.

"Yeoman I have orders from my superiors to investigate any suspicious activity we encounter, and neutralise any potential threats! A mysterious planet just materialises in a quadrant that has been unoccupied for centuries, supposedly from nothing, and you expect me to just walk away from it? Perhaps you would like to explain that to Starfleet because I certainly have no intention of doing so!" Kirk vociferated, glaring at the yeoman sharply. 

Her mouth fell open slightly and her eyes widened; she was completely lost for words. The Captain had never spoken so harshly to her before, and she certainly wasn't fond of this new arrangement. "Of course, Sir," she practically spat out, pursing her lips as she folded her arms against her chest, glaring daggers at the Captain.

Kirk sighed as he turned away from the yeoman, running his fingers through his hair. He hadn't intended on being quite so fierce, but she had to understand that he was in an incredibly difficult position: on one hand, he had a duty to Starfleet and his mission as Captain of the Enterprise, so an investigation into the mysterious appearance of this planet and its inhabitants was imperative, but on the other hand, their message had been far from welcoming, could he really risk the safety of his crew for the sake of curiosity? 

His train of thought was soon broken by a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Yes Mr Spock?"

"If I may Sir, whilst I understand your conflict, I believe we both know what must be done - Starfleet would be most unsympathetic," Spock stated, patting his shoulder in some form of comforting gesture, but still refusing to meet his gaze.

"You are correct yet again Mr Spock, there's no arguing with that flawless logic of yours," Kirk said with a quirk of his lips that only grew as he watched his first officer attempt to conceal a smug smirk to no avail. 

"Thank you Captain," Spock replied in as indifferent a tone as he could manage, though Kirk knew, through pure intuition if nothing else, that he was pleased.

"And you're certain you're okay Mr Spock?" Kirk asked again with concern, growing suddenly sombre.

"Perfectly Captain," Spock repeated, as though learnt by rote.

"Good," Kirk replied, abandoning his doomed attempt to break through Spock's evidently impenetrable walls, "then I want you in the transporter room on the double."

"Certainly Captain," Spock replied with a quick nod, releasing Kirk's shoulder as he turned and made his way to the transporter room.

Kirk gave the bridge a brief once over, sparing one final glance at the planet, before turning abruptly on his heel, "Mr. Scott, you're in command, and send a team down to the transporter room," he commanded firmly. 

"Aye, Captain," Scotty replied earnestly, already directing a group of red-shirted crewmen to the transporter room.

"Mr Sulu, retain orbit, once we've beamed down ensure our shields are up, keep phasers on standby."

"Aye, Sir."

"Lieutenant Uhura, Mr Spock and I will be checking in every half hour, make certain the comm remains open."

"Yes, Sir," Uhura replied, diligently adjusting the necessary settings, before offering the Captain a comforting smile: she knew his position couldn't have been a comfortable one, and his decision hadn't been made lightly.

"Thank you Lieutenant," Kirk replied gratefully, returning her smile briefly before rushing posthaste into the lift that had just begun to close.

Janice propped herself against the edge of Uhura's desk and eyed her indignantly, a look of pure, unadulterated betrayal marring her features. "How could you possibly agree with him?" she hissed, her deep blue eyes glowering furiously.

"I never said I agreed with him, I dislike this as much as you do, but you and I both know he had no choice," Uhura replied calmly, looking deep into Janice's eyes, silently conveying the veracity of her statement. Janice's features began to soften slightly as she stared into Uhura's dark eyes that were alight with a desperate honesty.

"But it's suicide!" she whispered helplessly, her eyes sparkling with tears.

"I know it seems that way, but we must have faith in the Captain," Uhura answered soothingly, hesitating slightly before placing her hand over Janice's and rubbing it gently.

Janice smiled down warmly at Uhura, brushing her tears away with her free hand as she closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer for the squad transporting down.

Uhura looked up at her and found herself at a loss for words, as she was once again amazed by the sheer beauty of her friend; she knew of no other woman who could look so radiant whilst on the verge of tears, and couldn't imagine what she had ever done to be so blessed.

"Janice what the BLOODY HELL are you doing?!" a deep, stentorian voice roared aggressively.

With a petrified gasp Janice snatched her hand from Uhura's grasp, springing away from her as though her touch were hot metal against her skin. 

"Eoin! It-it was n-n-nothing, I was j-just upset, Ny-Nyota was just c-c-comforting me, I swear!"

A tall, dark haired, muscular figure came into Uhura's line of vision: he was a broad-shouldered, rugged man, and all she could think was that he was everything Janice wanted...and everything she wasn't. His dark, flaming eyes bore into Janice's, and Uhura could do nothing more than watch in horror as her closest friend - a woman she had watched look danger right in the eye with nothing but a smile on her face - collapse into a feeble, quivering mess under his gaze alone.

"Why exactly were you upset?" he all but growled.

"The Captain was just a little harsh with me, that's all," Janice whispered acquiescently.

"How harsh exactly?" he snarled threateningly.

"He-he simply shouted at me a little, it was n-nothing, and I p-probably d-d-deserved it," she whispered in response.

"How DARE he?!" Eoin roared back, "You are not his to berate!"

"Neither is she yours," Uhura quipped quietly. 

Eoin turned his steely gaze upon Uhura but she was unaffected, rather than cowering before him as he had so evidently hoped, she met his glare with equal force, catching him off his guard. He turned away from her quickly, instead grabbing Janice's waist and growling, "Come on Jani, we're leaving."

Uhura watched smugly as that odious man walked away from her with his tail between his legs, but her gaze grew more solemn as she thought on the meek, subservient creature that he dragged roughly to his side.

**Author's Note:**

> And there we go!  
> I hope you're enjoying it so far - any kudos and comments will be greatly appreciated!  
> Here's a link to our insta: https://instagram.com/thesapphicspockies?r=nametag  
> My friend's uploading her beautiful art there <3  
> Stay safe guys, see you all soon x


End file.
